Tis The Season To Remember
by BSC Writers
Summary: A Round-Robin Holiday Story! (Finally FINISHED- Jessi's Chapter Added 1-1, Mal's Chapter and Epilogue added 1-27) Brought you largely in part by the players in the babysit RPG on livejournal.
1. Chapter One: Kristy

**Tis The Season To Remember**   
by BSC Writers 

We are nine authors brought together for one purpose - to write a holiday fanfic for your reading pleasure! This story is inspired by Ann M. Martin's BSC Super Special, "The Babysitters Remember" (SS #11).   
  
Chapter One: Kristy   
by greer   


* * *

I grinned as I looked around my bedroom at the faces of my closest friends, minus a few who could not attend--Claudia, Stacey, Mary Anne, Shannon, Abby, Jessi, and Mallory. They've been my closest friends for years; we've shared everything together and been through so much. 

Including countless sleepovers, most of them occuring at my house, since there's so much room. Making up weird popcorn toppings and giggling over Nicky Cash's attempts at singing, each sleepover was special. 

This one was especially special, if that makes any sense, for it was a BSC _Holiday_ sleepover. The holidays conjure up all sorts of memories for everyone, both good and bad. It was Jessi, I think, who started this sleepover on the track of holiday memories. 

I thought hard about this, realizing that there was not one single memory, but two major memories that come to mind whenever someone mentions the time between Thanksgiving and New Year's, the time when people get together and get stressed out and trees and menorahs are lit up. 

One is painful, one contains an epiphany. But both are equally life-changing, or at least show a shift in my life. 

"Okay guys," I said to my friends. "I'll go first." 

"Some things never change. Kristy is one of them," Claudia said, grinning. 

I ignored her comment and continued. 

* * *

The first memory is the first Christmas we spent without Patrick. It feels funny calling him Dad, even though as I've gone through my adolescence he's made more of an effort to be there, but that doesn't make up for an almost decade-long absence. 

We were very short on cash at the time. Mom had worked hard, trying to make it a good Christmas. She managed, in between her demanding job and keeping the Thomas household together, to put up a tree and even spend one late evening making cookies with all of us kids. Sam and I were so young at the time didn't really really understand what was going on at all. Despite Mom's efforts, it was still a very sad Christmas, especially when Sam wrote a letter to Santa asking him to bring back his father. 

The pinnacle moment, is, I think, when we lit the tree. Like Rockefeller Center, my family makes a big deal of the time when the tree is lit. When I saw the tree with all the same ornaments from my childhood (or what I then considered to be my childhood, since I was only six years old at the time), I felt, wow, things might turn out all right, even though Mom is sad at the time and everything is harder right now, maybe one day things will be easier. 

Even though it wasn't a particularly happy time, and it is still a painful memory, it was the first time that I felt that everything was really final, and it wasn't so great, but I knew that we would pull through as a family. 

* * *

As soon as I said that part of about Sam and Santa, Mary Anne started crying. Claudia was right; some things never change. 

But some things do. I think that with Watson, Mom is much happier than she ever would've of been with Patrick, and I love all my brothers and sisters, biological and non. I love being a part of the raucous Brewer-Thomas clan. 

Which brings me to my second memory: the first Brewer/Thomas joint Christmas. 

* * *

We didn't have Emily Michelle yet, so it was just me, my brothers, Mom, Watson, and Karen and Andrew. Which still is an awful lot, really. 

I felt like Watson was an intruder. It was okay for the rest of year, but Christmas was different. I didn't want him getting all mushy on us. I was worried that he'd get me a dumb dress or make some grandiose statement during Christmas dinner about this being our first Christmas all together and all. Sure, at Thanksgiving he had a chance to mess everything up too, but Thanksgiving was spent at Nannie's and it was mostly her show. 

I watched him carefully all through the selection and the trimming of the tree, and he seemed to be doing all right. Even when Karen and Andrew and David Michael were tearing through the mountain of presents underneath the tree, he was doing a good job of not being _too_ corny (Karen and Andrew spent Christmas Eve at their mother's house, and then arrived early Christmas Day and went to their mother's for New Years). 

But dinner--that is where I just knew he'd mess it all up. He'd probably get all misty-eyed while he was carving the turkey and get the meat all wet. 

Christmas dinner really started at noon, when Watson began cooking like mad. Roast potatoes, macaroons, and yes, turkey--it all smelled wonderful. I hated to admit it, but in addition to being a fantastic gardener, Watson was also a wonderful cook. 

Nannie and Watson were a mean team in a kitchen, and by "mean" I mean wonderful. For the first time in years, Mom got to lie down on the couch while someone else did all the cooking and cleaning. 

Lord knows she deserved it. 

Finally, around four we all sat down to dinner together. Charlie called out, "Speech, speech!" as Watson stood poised above the huge turkey, knife in hand. Obviously Charlie felt differently about Watson than I did. 

Watson grinned. "Well, I just want everyone to take a moment to think of how much we've grown together as a family during these four months. This big house feels fuller than it has in years, and also much happier. Love and happiness are the greatest Christmas gifts one can receive." 

It was a bit corny, but it was also true, I realized. I liked being part of this big new family, with all the negative aspects--Watson's corniness--and the positive--Watson's kindheartedness. 

I knew then that I wouldn't want to go back to the way things were on Bradford Court. Just seeing Mom's face at Christmas dinner was enough to convince me. 

* * *

"Well," I said. "That about wraps it up. Who wants to go next?" 

"I will," Claudia replied.   
  


_greer is the author of the "Fall Series", "The Time of Year For Letting Go", "Abbyss of BSC Story Ideas", and several other stories. She is also the webmaster of stoneybrookite.net, a BSC fansite, and she is a player in the babysit RPG._


	2. Chapter Two: Claudia

Chapter Two: Claudia  
by DCParisienne   
  


I told the other girls to help themselves to more fudge and snacks from the large Rubbermaid container I'd brought to Kristy's while I thought about what memory I should share. As they excitedly discussed which treats were their favorites, I thought back to all of the previous Christmases I'd shared with my family. Finally, I settled on the Christmas I was nine. 

* * *

"I guess the Christmas I remember most was the one when I was nine, I think because that's the first year I remember feeling really involved and being able to see beyond the gifts. Mimi was still alive, so a lot of what I remember from that year centers around her, of course. The first thing I remember doing that Christmas is making desserts with Mimi for a party Mom and Dad were having for their friends. I had never really been allowed to help out in the kitchen before, except for putting groceries away and loading the dishwasher and stuff like that. But Mimi was making so much food that she asked me to help out a little. I got to pour chocolate chips in the mixing bowl for the cookies we were making and stir the batter for the brownies. I thought it was really cool. 

"I had always loved sweets up until that point, but I wasn't the junk food queen I am now. Plus, my parents would never let me get away with eating too much junky stuff anyway. When I helped Mimi with the baking, though, I felt like it was the first time I could really eat as much sweet stuff as I wanted. She told me that sometimes it's okay to indulge, especially at the holidays. Life's too short not to eat what you like, she pointed out. I'm sure you guys have heard me say that before when you tease me about all of the candy and everything... now you know where it comes from!" 

Mallory giggled. 

"She let me lick the spoons and I got to sample the finished products. So, not only was that the main thing that led to my love of junk food, but I felt really grown up being able to help with the baking, and it definitely made me feel close to Mimi. By that point, Janine had entered high school early, and Mom and Dad were always focusing on her and how great that was, so having someone make an effort to spend time with only me made me feel really good." 

"Mimi was always really good about being supportive of you," Kristy broke in. "I swear, you need that in order to stay sane while living in the same house as Janine the human dictionary." 

"So Mimi ended up convincing my parents that I didn't need a babysitter and that I would be fine staying at home while they hosted the party. I wore my fancy red velvet dress, and all the guests were so impressed that I had helped with the food. They kept saying how good all of the cookies and rolls and everything were, and Mimi and I were just beaming. It made me see how happy food could make people, especially junk food. I know that sounds really corny, but it's true – food brings people together, and people love them if you provide them with junk food!" 

"Sounds like that was a really special Christmas for you, Claud," Mary Anne said warmly. "What else happened that holiday?" 

"Well, there was the whole Christmas cards incident. Mom and Dad happened to mention one night at dinner that they needed to go pick out some Christmas cards and send them out. I had been doing lots of Christmas artwork at school, so I said I could make some for them instead. 

Dad said, 'We know your artwork is very important to you, Claudia, but maybe you can give pictures to our friends some other time. I'm not sure if we should send out hand-drawn Christmas cards from our daughter.'" 

"What? Why?" Stacey's eyes grew wide. 

"Mom didn't really say anything 'cause I think she felt bad, but I could tell she agreed. I felt really hurt. It felt like they were, like, stifling my creativity or something. 

"Well, Mimi stepped in and said she thought it was a cute idea. Mom and Dad still seemed pretty hesitant, and I was about to cry. Janine said something like, 'Gosh, Claud, it's not like you're Degas or someone. It's not like they're telling you that you can't draw at all.' That pissed me off, and I was about to say something really nasty to Janine when Mimi spoke up again. She suggested that maybe I could create the majority of the cards for the people they wanted to send them to, and if there was anyone on their list who they thought should have store-bought ones, then they could use those for them. 

"Plus, she pointed out that a lot of people would probably think it was charming to get a card featuring artwork from someone's child, especially if the drawings were good. She also mentioned that my parents would still be able to write their own personal note inside. 

"Mom and Dad gave in, and I spent forever drawing holly and stockings and reindeer and the whole bit on construction paper. I loved every minute of it, though. I felt like I was really contributing, and like I said earlier, it showed me that the holidays are more than just a time for gifts." 

"I'm sure everyone ended up loving the cards, didn't they?" Shannon commented. "It sounds like Mimi was always right about these things, from the way you've talked about her." 

"They were a big hit. I think Mom and Dad hadn't been expecting them to come out so well. That's only one of the million times that I would have felt completely lost if I didn't have Mimi. She stood up for me and made me feel special, AND she showed me how nice holiday traditions can be. 

"This probably sounds really dumb, but... since this is our first Christmas without her, I think I'm going to make a plate of treats for Mimi and leave it out in her honor on Christmas Eve. I feel like she'd like that." 

"Aw, Claud, that's such a sweet idea," Mary Anne said, tearing up again. "I think that will make her very happy." 

"Well, if you're done, Claud, let's go on to the next memory," Kristy said. "I think Mary Anne should go next, so that way, after she's done with hers, she can cry all she wants without having to worry about composing herself." 

"Kristy!" Mary Anne said through her tears, and threw a pillow at her. "All right, that logic does make sense. Okay, I'd like to share mine now."   
  
_DCParisienne plays two characters in the babysit RPG._


	3. Chapter Three: Mary Anne

Chapter Three: Mary Anne (Holiday Mysteries)   
by CNJ   


I quietly mulled over Claudia and Kristy's holiday memories for a long minute. The holidays often cause me to ponder the mystery of why we're alive and whether there is magical and supernatural existence beyond the here and now. One holiday season in particular comes to my mind when two of my friends and I discussed the possibility and how it may have been a factor and shaping how we celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah today... 

* * *

"It's snowing!" I crowed softly as Dad and I walked over to the Thomas's back when I was eight and in the third grade. 

"It certainly is," Dad agreed. Light flakes drifted down from the powdery sky that late afternoon a week before Christmas and that first night of Hanukkah. Dad rang the Thomas's bell and Kristy and her mom joined us. 

"Happy holidays!" we all greeted each other. We then walked over to Claud's house and Claudia and her mom, sister and grandmother joined us, then we headed to the Brickhursts' house down the street. As we walked, we talked and sang little carols. 

There were already about ten others there when we got there. I felt a slight twinge of nervousness as I usually do when I'm meeting new people. Kristy and Claudia said hi right away and talked with the others. I waved timidly, then felt my face redden as I looked down. 

"Hiii, love..." Ms. Brickhurst leaned toward me and touched my hair lightly. "Want to meet the others?" I looked up at her smiling face and nodded tentatively as she took my jacket. 

"She's rather shy and reserved," Dad explained, stroking my shoulder. Bit by bit, I met some of the others, some of them kids our age. I found Kristy and Claudia and stayed with them and let them introduce me to the other kids. I slowly relaxed and looked around. The house was full of pretty decorations...some for Christmas and others for Hanukkah. The Brickhursts are a mix of Jewish and Catholic, so that wasn't surprising. 

The grown-ups went into the kitchen and talked while we kids stayed in the rec room and ate, played and talked there. My friends and I saw a girl we knew from school, Emily Bernstein and she introduced us to her cousin, Lynn Bernstein. 

"Since Hanukkah starts tonight, does anyone want dreidel-spinning?" Emily asked us all. 

"Yeeahhh..." "Sure..." the rest of us chimed in. So we started. The game's actually fun. I'd played it a few years ago at Kristy's cousin's place back when we were in first grade. A girl next to us had never played before, so my friends and I taught her and gave her some pointers. 

After about an hour of playing, Mr. Brickhurst called down, "Kids, we have another guest...come see..." So we did, tricking into the living room. 

"Heyyyy, it's Santa Claus..." some kids gasped. Sure enough, a big man in a red suit stood in our living room, calling out loud hoho's for greetings. "Merrrry Christmas, kids!" he called. "Who'd like to have their picture taken with me?" 

"Meeee!" almost everyone responded, including Kristy and Claudia. Part of me wanted to be in a picture, but part of me was feeling shy and anxious. I'd never been this close to a Santa before. I wondered as an eight-year-old, if it's true that Santa has magical powers. I guess it'd be a neat feeling, but at the same time, it made me rather shy. 

I watched as kids one by one got their pictures snapped. Kristy got hers taken, then told me, "You're next." I shakily walked up, my heart hammering. 

"Ho, don't be afraid, little girl..." the Santa cajoled. But I was rather afraid. Trembling, I walked close, feeling frightened with the others watching me. I don't like to be the center of attention and it made me nervous having this huge red-suited person put an arm around me. 

I felt tears in my eyes and fought them back, willing myself not to cry. But as the camera snapped, a tear ran down my face. Once it was done, I scurried back into the group and let Claudia go up. 

"Are you all right, love?" Dad whispered. I shook my head and he held me close as I cried softly. I kept my face buried until Santa had left. 

"There, he's gone now," Claudia told me. I slowly pulled away. 

"Feel better?" Dad asked. I nodded, wiping my face. Someone handed me a tissue and I wiped my face and nose, feeling a bit embarrassed at being the only kid so frightened of Santa. 

"C'mon, it's time to eat," Ms. Thomas told us and we headed into the large kitchen, where a tall menorah decorated the table. 

The sun had just set, so Ms. Brickhurst turned out the light and lit the first candle of the menorah. She and her husband sang a few Hanukkah songs, then most of us joined in. 

It was a beautiful sight and it calmed me. I'd never really been to a menorah lighting since my dad and I don't practice any religion and neither do my friends. We then sat at the long table and ate and talked. 

After dinner, we played a few more rounds of dreidel-spinning and had tea and Christmas cookies. The party turned out to be enjoyable after all. 

* * *

"I wonder how much of the holidays is based on religious belief," Kristy later whispered as the three of us lay in bed at my house once we got back home. Kristy and Claudia had come to spend the night. 

"I read somewhere that Christmas used to be a non-religious holiday," I told my friends. "Hanukkah was around then, but Christmas was started to break up the dark and monotony of the winter solstice in the north. Then once the Christians came to Europe, they added the Nativity part to it and a religious part to it. Something about a special baby being born around that time." 

"Baby Jesus," Claudia supplied. 

"What?" I asked, puzzled. 

"That was the baby that came around that time...at least what most Christians believe." 

"Oh..." I thought about it and it made sense. 

"I wonder where the Santa idea came from," Kristy wondered. I didn't know and I don't think Claudia did, either but she guessed. 

"Maybe he stemmed from the idea of presents for kids from the three persons bringing gifts to baby Jesus," she told us. We pondered it for a while. 

"Could Santa and Jesus be magic people?" I wondered. 

"It's possible," Kristy turned over. "Maybe that's part of why you got scared around Santa." 

"Probably..." I said softly. "But I'm scared around even ordinary people I don't know. Sometimes I wish I wasn't." 

"So we really don't know a lot about the people who actually started Christmas and Hanukkah and all," Claudia told us. "A lot of it is just mystery...like how oil for one candle lasted for eight days...could that have been magic?" 

"It could have been," I turned my pillow over. It sure sounded like magic having oil for just one day in an abandoned temple, then by some miracle having it last for eight days. 

We whispered a few more things back and forth, thinking over the possibility that there was a such thing as magic. Perhaps religious beliefs are one way to explain magic or whatever it is we can't explain. 

* * *

I thought that back then and often think of it today. It's a complex mystery that I doubt anyone will find the answer to in many more decades, maybe centuries to come. I looked over at Claudia and Kristy now, who were nodding solemnly at my memory. 

"Hey, you weren't afraid of Santa this year when you worked at the mall, were you?" Abby quipped. We all chuckled softly. 

"No," I grinned. Although I am glad I got that holiday bill paid off since no magic can undo a huge bill. 

Stacey's face became thoughtful as she munched on a low-sugar candy bar, then looked at it a minute before she added her holiday thoughts...   
  


_CNJ is one of the original authors in the BSC category of ff.net. She has written a multitude of fanfics, many of them centering around Mary Anne, and is best known for "You're Coming A Long Way Mary Anne", "Evolutions Coinciding", "When New York City's Tears Dry", "Roommate Lost and Remembered", "Edge of Darkness", and The BSC Legacy Series that has its own fan club on Yahoo._


	4. Chapter Four: Stacey

Chapter Four: Stacey   
by Ballet Princess   


"Well," I started "I guess most of my Christmases have been pretty ordinary. Before the divorce it was just Mom, Dad and I. All my grandparents lived too far away to visit for the holidays, so we always had a nice quiet little celebration. Although there was this one Christmas..." 

"Yeah?" asked Kristy eagerily 

"But it's kind of hard for me to talk about." 

"Oh come on," coaxed Abby "We're all friends here." 

"But you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to," MaryAnne reminded me. 

"It's okay." I said. "I guess it's time to talk about it." I took a deep breath and began my story... 

* * *

When I was in sixth grade, my life wasn't the greatest. In fact in my eyes, it had kind of sucked. I had big hopes for that year- I was going to get stellar grades and make the soccer team. But then I got diagnosed with Diabetes and none of those things happened. Worse yet, a lot of my friends started avoiding me, I guess because they didn't really understand Diabetes, and they were scared. So the holiday break was a welcome change for me, and I couldn't wait for it to start. 

On the first day of break, my family always went to get our Christmas tree. Even though we lived in an apartment, my parents felt that getting a real tree was a must for the holidays, so that Friday evening we all piled into our car and drove to a Christmas tree lot to pick out a tree. We'd been going to the same lot for years, so the owners, an older couple recognized us. 

"Well!" said Mrs. Johnson (one of the owners) when we piled out of the station wagon, "If it isn't the merry McGills!" 

"Hi Doris," my Dad replied "Have you saved us the pick of the lot again this year?" 

"I have the best pines right over there, take your pick and I'll see what I can do about a discount." 

"Thanks, Doris. Maureen, shall we take a look?" 

We trooped through the snow over to the trees, and within minutes my parents had picked out a gorgeous, tall pine with the greenest leaves I'd ever seen and a delicious smell." 

While Mr. Johnson rang up the tree, my Mom and I chatted with Mrs. Johnson. 

"I can't believe how big your daughter is getting," Mrs. Johnson said to Mom. "How old is she now?" 

"Eleven," my mom replied. "She's in sixth grade at Parker Academy." 

"My, my. Oh! I almost forgot I have some fresh hot cocoa in the house. Would you like some?" 

I had always loved hot cocoa, especially at the Johnson. It was creamy and rich, with little marshmellows and a sprinkle of cinnamon. I almost accepted, until I remember how sweet the cocoa was. The Johnsons usually dumped about a cup of sugar into it. 

"I'd love some," said my mom "But Stacey can't. She was just diagnosed with Diabetes and sweet drinks are no-no." 

Geez, I thought. I could have just said no thanks. But noooo... my mom had to start going into the whole thing with Mrs. Johnson. It would have been nice to go one night, especially this night, without talking about my diabetes. 

"That's too bad," Mrs. Johnson was saying, "You know my sister has diabetes..." 

Who cares? I thought. Your sister has the old people type of diabetes. It's totally different than mine. I wanted to hit my mom and Mrs. Johnson. 

"Are we ready?" my dad asked interuppting us 

Thank God. We tied the tree in back of the station wagon and we were off. I didn't say anything on the car ride home, and my holiday spirit was definitely damped. That incident was only the beginning of several. I had never realized how much sugar was a part of the Christmas season, and for the first time in my eleven years I began to hate the holidays. 

Later that week, on our last day of school before break, our class had a Christmas party. Since it was a private school, we could get away with that. We did a grab bag, and in addition everyone in our class was supposed to bring a treat to share. So I brought a liter of diet soda, and I bought a really cute teddy bear for the grab bag (they were boy and girl separate, so I didn't have to worry about a guy getting a bear). Anyway, the party started at 1:00, and our class set everything up on the tables. I was looking around, and everyone was pulling tins of brownies, cookies and cupcakes out. 

"Hey Laine," I said to my best friend (at the time). "What did you bring?" 

Laine pulls her tin out of her bag. "Brownies." 

"Oh." I know Laine could probably tell I was disappointed that I could get what she had brought, because she shrugged. 

"I didn't have time to get anything, I just got them at deli." 

I nodded, trying to be understanding, but I was crushed. As far as I could tell, no one had brought anything I could eat. I mean, granted I probably could have eaten a cookie or two, but I definitely couldn't pig out the way the other kids could. I felt so left out. I talked to our teacher who was nice enough to let me go to the vending machine in the teacher's lounge and buy a bag of potato chips, but I had to pay for the chips myself, and somehow buying them from a machine wasn't as fun. Oh well, I thought. I had at least the grab bag to look forward to, or so I thought. 

"Okay kids, let's get in two groups, boys and girls so we can start the grab!" Our teacher announced. 

I found a seat between Laine and her friend Allison Ritz. Everyone put their gift into a pillowcase the teacher had brought, and the she walked around the circle and everyone pulled out a gift. I reached in and pulled out a small, square box. When everyone had a gift, we could all unwrap them. Excitedly, I pulled the green and red paper off my box. I pulled my gift out and stared in shock at it. Staring back at me was a Lifesavers Sweet Storybook. You know, the kind that has like six different kinds of lifesavers in it? 

"Oh," I said. "Um… thanks to whoever this is from…" 

"It's mine." Allison Ritz said. 

"Oh. Well, thanks." I said half-heartedly 

Laine looked at both of us. She could probably tell that I was disappointed, but didn't know what to do about. She looked at her gift, it was a candy cane filled with Hershey's Kisses. 

"Hey Stace, I'd offer to trade, but..." 

I gave her a small smile. "Really, it's okay." 

I looked at Allison, cradling a fuzzy toy snowman. Looking around the circle, I realized that the snowman and my teddy bear (who a girl named Julie had gotten) were the only two gifts that didn't involve candy. I wanted to ask Allison if we could switch, but I just couldn't I had a bad past with her, and I couldn't do it. So I put the lifesavers in my bag to use as "low-candy". 

By the time Christmas Eve rolled around a few days later, I wasn't in a good mood. Everywhere I turned the holidays had sweets and food associated with it- candy, cookies, hot chocolate, eggnog. All things I couldn't eat. I didn't even want to get out of bed that morning, but I had to. It was a Christmas tradition for us to spend Christmas Eve with Laine's family. We had dinner, exchanged presents, sang carols and then watched Christmas Day roll in from one of our apartments. This year, the Cummings were coming here. I spent the morning baking, cleaning and wrapping gifts. By 4:00 I was ready, even if I wasn't happy. 

I remember Laine and her parents being buzzed up to our apartment knocking on the door. They came in, all bundled up and loaded down with bags and boxes, and my mom and I helped them unpack everything in the kitchen. The first tin I pulled out was full of cookies. 

"Ohhh," I thought to myself, until Laine's mom came over to me. 

"Stacey, these cookies are for you. I got them special at the bakery… they're sugar-free, made with fruit juice. I tried one myself and I must say, they're delicious." 

I tried a cookie right then and there, and it did taste pretty good. Then Laine and her dad pulled out all the fixings for a turkey, mashed potatoes and a loaf of fresh baked bread. 

"We wanted to make sure you could eat everything Stace," said Laine "So we don't have any cranberry sauce or anything!" 

That did it. Tears began to form in my eyes. I managed to give a 'thank you' to Laine and her parents before I became a total mess. Laine put her arm around me, and we went to my room where she helped me fix myself up. Before we went back to the living room to eat with our parents, Laine pulled a small box out of her purse. 

"This is for you," she said "I got something extra, because of what happened with the grab bag. I know you were hurt. I tried to talk to Allison Ritz, but she, well, she was being a pain in the butt about it. Here, open it." 

I took the little silver wrapped box and opened it up. Inside lay a beautiful pair of snowflake earrings. They were dangly, painted white and covered with glitter. 

"Thank you!" I cried, giving Laine a hug. 

She hugged me back and laughed. "Don't thank me yet! You have more presents coming!" 

We both giggled and went to join our parents. 

* * *

I turned to my friends. 

"That," I said "Was when I really learned what Christmas was all about. It wasn't about food, or grab bags… it's about love and friendship. Even though Laine and I aren't friends anymore, I still remember that Christmas and it feels like no time has past. She taught me an important lesson about the spirit of the holiday, one that I've carried with me even through the divorce." 

I looked at MaryAnne, who was crying up a river. "That so (sniff) sweet (sniff)." 

Mallory handed her a tissue. 

"Hey," said Kristy, "Speaking of divorce, you know who we should call?" 

"Dawn!" Jessi, Claudia and I said at the same time. 

MaryAnne stopped crying for a minute and smiled. "I'll dial if you want." 

Kristy nodded, and MaryAnne picked up the phone and punched out Dawn's number in California.   
  
_BalletPrincess is another long-time writer in the BSC category of ff.net. She is the author of "Stacey's Journal", "Return to Camp Mohawk", "Chaos for Kristy", and "The REAL Truth About Stacey." She also plays two characters in the babysit RPG._


	5. Chapter Five: Dawn

Chapter Five: Dawn  
by YellowRoseOfTexas   


"Hello?" 

"HI DAWN!!!" shouted seven or eight voices. It knew could only be the Babysitters Club. 

I laughed. "Hi, you guys! Having a slumber party?" 

"We sure are," answered Mary Anne. "It isn't the same without you, though. We sure do miss you, sis. Can't wait for you to visit us for the New Year." I heard a collective murmur of agreement in the background, which made me smile. 

"Me neither," I agreed. It sort of sucked, having to spend Christmas in California and New Years' in Connecticut. If it were possible, I'd celebrate both holidays in both places. Split myself into two people somehow... 

"Hey, Dawn, you remember when we had that slumber party at Kristy's over the summer and we talked about our most vivid memories?" Mary Anne asked. "Well... we're discussing Christmas memories now! And the reason I'm calling is that we need to hear yours. Do you have a story to share? We'll put you on speaker phone." 

I took a brief moment to think about that. It came to me quickly, and I knew it would interest my friends because it took place in Stoneybrook before I knew any of them. Before moving to Connecticut, finding my future sister, and reuniting our parents, the only reason I went to Stoneybrook was to visit my grandparents who lived there. Usually, though, they had to visit us because it was a lot less trouble for the two of them to fly in to see us. I'll never forget my first Christmas in Stoneybrook, and the only Christmas that I spent in Stoneybrook before actually living there. 

"Well," I began, "when I was ten years old, we got a chance to visit my grandparents in Stoneybrook over the Christmas holidays for the first time ever..." 

* * *

As soon as the idea was brought up, all I cared about was the snow! The only times I had visited my grandparents in Connecticut were during the summer. During the winter, in fact, they usually liked to come to California. Seventy degree weather, they said, was a miraculous blessing. Also, Pop-pop got a break from shoveling all the snow. In Stoneybrook, apparently, there were piles of it. I'd seen pictures. Inches upon inches of soft snow that fluttered down from the sky... 

"...And I'm going to make a snowman. And a snowangel. And a snow igloo," I told all about it Sunny over the phone. 

"Gosh," she sighed dreamily. "You're going to have so much fun." 

"Not that much fun," I told her. "Pro'lly the only person who'll play in the snow with me will be _Jeff._" 

"Sounds more like babysitting," Sunny commented. I agreed. Seven-year-olds do not make interesting playmates. 

"I'm glad we already exchanged presents," I said. "Because I won't be back until after New Year's Day." 

"Write me a letter," Sunny insisted. "And stick some snow in it." 

"It would melt." 

"Oh, yeah..." Sunny giggled, though, probably aware of the fact already and just being silly. 

* * *

Mary Anne chuckled, interrupting me with a comment. "So excited over snow!" 

"Well, we'd never seen it before!" I reminded her. "On with my story..." 

* * *

Granny and Pop-pop were (and still are) pretty wealthy. I guess that's part of the reason why they were typically the ones flying out to see us in California. Their house is this large, beautiful old farmhouse with lots of land and big trees. (It wasn't not nearly as old as the farmhouse we'd eventually move into in Stoneybrook though.) I had seen pictures of their property covered in heaps of brilliant snow, but pictures really didn't do it justice. We arrived on Christmas Eve... 

"Wow..." Getting out of the car and setting my duffel bag down on the ground, I breathed heavily, my foggy breath showing up in the air in front of me. 

All around, nothing but gleaming white powder as far as the eye could see. Trees topped with white. Granny and Pop-pop's house at the end of a long driveway. Neighbors' houses could be seen far in the distance. There was even a pond frozen over that I wondered if you could skate on. 

Mom gently scolded me for setting my bag in the snow and getting it wet. I hardly noticed. And suddenly, Granny had me in her arms. She had a strong grip for an older woman; her hugs were _tight._ And snug. 

"You're here!" she exclaimed. "Come right in this instant. It's dreadful out here. I've got a big lunch ready for you to eat." 

"Oh, okay, but..." I trailed off as Mom gave me a Look. I knew what it meant. I had plenty of time for snow, and I shouldn't complain. Knowing better than to be rude to Granny, I bit my tongue. 

"But I wanna play in the snoooo-oooo-ow," Oblivious to the Looks he was getting from both of our parents, Jeff whined, giving the word 'snow' three syllables. Pop-pop scooped him up before he could start the pouting and the complaining that he was so good at back then (and is still known for today). Pop-pop was pretty strong himself. 

"I'm with ya, Scooter," Pop-pop said, his teeth whistling as he called Jeff by one of the many affectionate nicknames he had for his only grandson. "But we'd better make your grandma happy and not let that lunch get cold!" 

Jeff laughed, forgetting to complain about the snow. 

* * *

"A pond, huh?" Kristy interrupted me this time. "Do you think we could really skate on it?" Sounded like she had an idea. I had to break it to her that it wouldn't work. 

"Uh-uh," I said. "I brought the idea up to Granny and she said absolutely not. Then she told me a really frightening story about how my mother's best friend, Rhonda, once tried to walk on the ice and fell through! Luckily, they got her out fast." 

"Gosh..." that was Kristy, obviously talked out of her idea. "Okay. Sorry, Dawn. Continue!" 

* * *

After eating a wonderful lunch of tofurkey, sweet potatoes, green beans, fruit salad, and homemade bread, my parents and Granny and Pop-pop all sat around in the living room to talk. I, on the other hand, helped Jeff back into his huge puffy jacket, scarf, gloves, and hat. (He looked like a marshmellow.) Then I put on my coat, scarf, gloves, and hat, and we were ready. From her spot on the couch, Granny said something about us having ridiculous amounts of energy. We received a few instructions from Mom, and one more severe reminder from Granny not to go near the pond. Then off we went. 

The first thing I noticed when I went outside was not the massive amounts of snow or the new powder fluttering down from the sky and tickling my nose. It was a girl in the distance, walking by with what looked like an Alaskan Husky. She looked to be about my age. _Perfect,_ I thought, _someone to play with!_ I turned and told Jeff to stay put. He was already squatted down, playing in the snow. 

"Hey! Hi!" I ran towards the girl who froze in her tracks, giving me an odd look. 

"Hey..." she said, warily. I then realized how odd it was for me, a complete stranger, to be running towards her. 

I stopped and jogged like a normal person. "Hi, erm, I'm Dawn. I'm visiting my grandparents for Christmas." 

She nodded, still looking a little weirded-out by me. "Marguerite," she said, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you. Oh, and this (she gestured to her dog) is Princess." 

I pointed to my brother. "That's Jeff, my little brother. I'd rather have a dog." 

She giggled. "Where are you from?" 

"California," I answered. "Palo City, California." 

"Cool," she said. "Have you ever been to Hollywood?" (That was what everyone always asked!) 

"Yeah, a couple of times," I said. She nodded, approvingly. 

"It doesn't snow there, does it?" she asked. I shook my head. "No wonder your brother likes it so much!" 

I looked back at him. He was merrily making a snow angel. I grinned at the sight of him. 

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait!" Kristy was shrieking into the phone. "Back up. _Marguerite?_" 

"Huh? Yeah. So what?" 

"As in Marguerite _Mason,_" she said, meaningfully. I didn't follow. "COKIE. Dawn, that was Cokie Mason. Her real name is Marguerite. Your little playmate was none other than the BSC's biggest enemy!" 

"Oh, my lord!" I cried, using Claudia's favorite catch phrase. "You really think it was her?" 

"She didn't used to call herself Cokie," Kristy went on. "I don't know where Cokie came from, actually. If I were her, I'd stick with my real name but whatever. But yeah, Dawn, how many other Marguerites do you know? It had to be her. What did she look like?" 

"Um..." I tried to picture her. "Brown hair. Worn in two ponytails that were curled into ringlets. It looked like she slept with her hair in rollers or something. Uh, her jacket was red with black furry trim. It was pretty fancy for a kid's coat." 

"That's her," Kristy laughed. "Oh, my lord, that's her. Too weird. I remember that fancy coat. And that's how she wore her hair, too. Her mother always curled it. 

"I never realized that in all these years!" I exclaimed, laughing. "Well, may I finish my story now?" 

"Go right ahead," said Kristy. Then she burst into another fit of laughter, and I had to wait for her to settle down before I could go on. 

* * *

Marguerite (Cokie!) called her mother and asked if she could stay over. After she was given permission, we then played together for hours. She taught Jeff and me how to build an excellent snow fort. Then we ran inside to retrieve a carrot and some black buttons from Granny's sewing kit to build The Best Snowman in the World. Later, we went inside to sit by the fire and drink the warm apple cider that Granny had made for us. The one thing we didn't do while Marguerite was with us was have a snowball fight. She insisted that there was too much dirt in the snow, and it would get her jacket all dirty. (Jeff and I waited until later when Pop-pop and Dad joined us for Ultimate Snowball, as Pop-pop liked to call it.) 

When it was finally time for her to leave, she just told Jeff and me goodbye, and she and Princess went on their way. I wonder now what would have happened had I exchanged addresses with Marguerite. Would we have written to each other? Become penpals? Remained friends until I came to Stoneybrook? If that had been the case, I might have hung out with Cokie and her gang at SMS and never become friends with Mary Anne or joined the BSC. Mary Anne's dad and my mom might not have even gotten married had I been friends with Cokie instead of Mary Anne! That's a lot of consequences for one "what if." 

The rest of my Christmas was a magical Christmas that will be forever imprinted on my memory as my first real White Christmas. It was also special to me because I spent it with my grandparents. Grandparents have a way of bringing out the true magic of Christmas. I think Christmas is largely about family, and I was fortunate to have such a wonderful family to share it with. 

Now my family has certainly changed. It has split in half and grown from there. I have a wondeful sister and stepmother. Unfortunately, I've also got two homes and still only one Christmas. And always being separated from someone I love has been a difficult adjustment for me. 

But Christmas hasn't lost its magic. 

* * *

"Beautiful," Mary Anne sniffed, and I just knew that she was on the other end of the line wiping tears away. Kristy was probably emptying a box of Kleenex for her. "That's soooo sweet, Dawn." 

"Thanks," I grinned. "I still can't believe that was Cokie Mason, can you?" 

"That's definitely bizarre," Mary Anne agreed. Then, knowing we'd need to hang up soon, Mary Anne passed the phone to every single person there so that they could wish me a Merry Christmas and tell me goodbye. Suddenly, I couldn't wait to be back in Connecticut for New Year's Eve. After I talked to each person, Mary Anne got the phone back. "Okay, we should probably let you go. We have to call Logan to get his memory." 

"Take good notes!" I said. (I knew Mary Anne would be doing just that. She isn't the BSC secretary for nothing.) "Call me tomorrow and tell me all about it." 

"I will!" she said. "I love you, sis! Bye!" 

"Love you, too," I said. "Bye!"   
  
_YellowRoseOfTexas is a long-time writer in the BSC category of ff.net. She is best known for "Janine's Story," and it's sequel, "A Tale of Two Sisters." Additionally, she wrote "BSC: The New Class", "The Mystery of Sabrina Bouvier", and "Nobody Knows It But Me". She plays two characters in the babysit RPG._   
  


...There's more to come. The rest should be up tomorrow! Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah! (Oh, but hey, we've put a lot of work into this. So if you've read this, would you give us a Christmas present, too, by reviewing? Thanks a bunch!) 


	6. Chapter Six: Shannon

Chapter Six: Shannon   
by Sailing   


(a/n: part between *asterisks* written by YellowRoseOfTexas) 

*Mary Anne immediately starting dialing Logan's number after hanging up with Dawn. We watched her, smiling a little. Mary Anne and Logan are the cutest couple. 

"Oh, hi, Kerry," she said, speaking to Logan's ten-year-old sister. "Is Logan there? Oh... he is? Oh, yeah, that's right... No, I don't guess I need the number. Thanks, Kerry. 'Bye." 

She hung up, looking mildly disappointed. "Logan's not home. I forgot that he and the other guys are spending the night at Alan Gray's house tonight." 

We all made horrible faces at the thought of staying at Alan's house. Alan Gray is the most disgusting boy we know. (I don't know him as well as the others since I go to SDS.) He's a close second to Cokie for the title of The BSC's Main Enemy. Alan isn't mean, though. Just immature. 

"A slumber party at Alan Gray's." Kristy looked sick. "I can just see him now, walking around with yellow M&M's in his eyes, pretending to be Little Orphan Annie." 

"Logan would kill you if he heard you call it a slumber party, Kristy." Jessi giggled. 

"Alan just got a new game system as an early Christmas present," Mary Anne explained. "And that's why all the guys are staying at his house tonight." 

"I bet Logan would just _love_ us if we called over to ask him for his..." Abby got a silly, dreamy look in her eyes. She batted her eyelashes and clasped her hands. "...very most special Christmas memory." 

"Yeah," Claudia grinned mischieviously. "Wanna do it?" She pretended to try to take the phone from Mary Anne. 

"No!" Mary Anne shrieked, holding the phone away from Claudia. 

"Okay, okay," Kristy broke the two of them up. "Let's just skip Logan. Since Shannon joined the BSC after Logan, she should be next. How about it, Shannon?"* 

"Hmm, this is a tough one," I said, absently twisting a lock of blonde hair around my index finger. I sat there for awhile, trying to think. "I know, I have the perfect one." 

"Drawing it out for dramatic effect, eh, Shannon?" Kristy commented sagely. "Once a thespian, always a thespian." 

"It's from when I was really little, so some parts of it are kind of fuzzy in my mind." I smiled. "You'd like it, though, Kristy. It's about the same thing that brought the two of us together." 

"What is it?" Mallory asked interestedly, pushing her glasses further up on the bridge of her nose. She was probably remembering the stories about how Kristy and I hated each other and fought when we first met. 

"Yeah, tell us," Jessi agreed eagerly. 

"Okay, here goes. It was the year that I was five and in kindergarten at SDS. Tiffany was only three, and Mom was just pregnant with Maria at the time…" 

* * *

"How far away is Y – your – your-up?" Tiffany inquired. 

"But Daddy, you can't go away! What about Christmas?" I protested. 

"Oh, Ted," Mom sighed. "You're going to miss Shannon's play at school. And your parents are coming in for the holidays. What about them?" 

Dad looked at us sadly. "I'm sorry. You know how much I hate to be away from my girls, and especially at Christmastime." 

It was the year when I was five and Tiffany was three. Mom was pregnant with Maria and was about seven and a half months along. I was looking forward to having a new brother or sister, but Tiffany wasn't nearly as happy about this prospect as I was and already showing signs of defiance – well, as much signs of defiance as a three year old can show. Nowadays I wonder if Maria's being born was the catalyst of her turning into the stereotypical bitter middle child, because Tiffany used to be a sweet little girl who was one of my best playmates before that happened. But anyways, I'm getting ahead of myself here. 

I was a happy kindergartner at SDS and – not to sound stuck-up or anything, but I was already showing signs of being advanced. I once overheard my kindergarten teacher comment to my parents that "For a five year old, Shannon certainly reminds me of a precocious, mature little adult." Well, now that I know the meaning of "precocious", I realize that she might have been exaggerating on the little adult part, she was pretty on target about the other one. While my classmates were pondering the ramifications of "cat-rat-bat-fat" my favorite books were simple chapter books and I enjoyed adding up long columns of numbers, particularly the register tape from the local supermarket. And, of course, which is very similar to now, I was well on my way to becoming the teacher's pet. Much to Mom and Dad's chagrin, I volunteered to take the class hamster, Pokey, on more than one occasion, and Mom often found me staying after school to help my teacher, Mrs. McIntosh, organize her bookshelves. And to top it all off, my class was having its Christmas pageant the next week. Even though I love drama now, I had awful stage fright when I was little and couldn't remember lines to save my soul. So, noting this, Mrs. McIntosh had given me the part of the family's Bernese Mountain puppy who saved the day by bringing back the main character of the play, who ran away because he felt lost in the Christmas shuffle. Dad had been going over my lines with me every single night in preparation, and I think he was looking forward to the performance as much as I was. I think he was hoping I'd catch the acting bug. All in all, I'd say I was a pretty happy kid. 

We were seated around the dining room table having dinner on a Thursday night, about a week before Christmas. I had been picking at my lasagna, waiting for dessert to come so we could try some of the extra-special Christmas cookies Mom had baked earlier that day. And then Dad had made an announcement which had left all of us in a bit of a shock. He was going to Europe on a business trip in three days – that Monday – and was probably going to be stuck there until at least the 27th—two days after Christmas. Dad had never been away that long before. 

"I'm really sorry, girls. It's just that we're meeting with some clients at their headquarters in Sweden for a big international lawsuit case, and we really need to get together before the new year. You understand, don't you, girls? Kathy?" He gave Mom a helpless look. 

"You work too much, Ted," Mom said finally. 

"Will Santa come to give you your presents in Your-up?" Tiffany asked. 

Well, I said before that I was quick for a five year old, and my quick counting skills let me figure out that Dad would be leaving on the same day of the Christmas play. "What about the play?" I questioned. 

"Oh, Shannon, I'm so sorry, but I won't be able to go to your play because my flight leaves that morning. I wish I could." Dad looked at me with sad eyes. 

"But what about my lines and how we practiced?" 

Dad paused, trying to figure out a way to soften the blow. "Well, Mommy can practice with you too, after I leave. And Mommy and Tiffany and Grandma and Grandpa will still be there at the play, too." 

I nodded, not really feeling comforted. "Okay," I agreed. But I certainly didn't feel okay about it. 

* * *

As promised, that Monday, Dad left on his flight for Sweden. Despite Dad's protests that she shouldn't be driving in her condition, Mom drove him, Tiffany, and me to the airport. We stood with her at the gate. I was silent for most of the car ride, and I think Dad sensed how upset I was. 

At the boarding call for his flight, Dad knelt beside me. "I'm sorry I have to go, Shannie. You know how much I want to be with you guys at Christmas. I'll miss you, sweetheart," Dad said, hugging me tightly. He kissed me on the top of my head. "I'll be thinking of you today. You go out there and you be the best darn Bernese mountain puppy you can be, alright, honey?" 

"I love you, Daddy," I said, hugging him back as tightly as possible, and hoping it would make him stay. Please don't go, I silently added. 

* * *

That afternoon was the Christmas pageant at SDS. I managed to push thoughts of Dad out of my mind as I changed into my puppy costume. The body of the costume was a fluffy beige outfit, complete with paws. For the rest, I wore a headband with floppy black ears and my nose was a black smudge of stage makeup, which itched horribly. I even wore a mask that was supposed to look like the rings around the dog's eyes. I loved that costume and prancing around in it was one of the best things in the world to me. 

The play – my very first foray into the world of acting – went as smoothly as a kindergarten play can go, and yes, I even remembered my lines of "woof, woof, woof!" At the end, when the rest of my class and the kids in the play went out on the stage to receive our applause, I saw Mom and Grandma and Grandpa sitting in one of the first rows. Mom was holding a wildly-clapping Tiffany up in her lap. I was happy to see all of my family there, but I still felt a tug in my heart when I didn't see my Dad in the audience with them. 

Sensing my lack of enthusiasm after the play, Mom let me call Dad in the evening after we got home from SDS and had dinner. 

"Hi, Shannie," I heard Dad's voice come through the line. "How did the play go?" 

"It was good, Daddy. I remembered my lines and everything. And Grandma and Grandpa came, too," I answered. "I miss you." 

"I miss you too, sweetheart." Dad sighed. "But I'll be back in a few days, don't worry. You won't even notice I'm gone!" he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

My spirits suddenly lifted. "Soon? Before Christmas? Tomorrow?" I eagerly asked. 

Dad chuckled again. "I wish I could, honey, but no, I can't come home tomorrow. I just got here, after all." 

"Oh." 

"But I'll be back on the 27th, I promise. And then you can show me all of the toys that Santa brought you and tell me all about the play. Won't that be fun?" 

"Yeah," I said quietly, even though the thought of that didn't make me much happier. 

"So how are your Mom and your sister doing?" 

"They're fine," I answered. Speaking of my sister, she was panting at my elbow for the chance to talk to Dad. "Tiffany wants to talk to you." 

"Okay, Shannie, put her on the phone. I love you sweetie, and I'll see you in a few days, okay?" 

"Okay. Here's Tiffany," I said dully, handing the phone to a hyper Tiffany. 

* * *

On Christmas Eve, we sat down to have dinner with my grandparents. I was keeping quiet like usual, and Tiffany was doing a good job of filling the silence, like usual. 

"…and a hair color change Barbie, the Barbie corvette, the Little Artist's easel and paint set, the Magic Makeup vanity and makeup starter set, a new doll – " 

Grandpa chuckled politely, cutting Tiffany's long list off. "And have you been a good girl so that Santa will bring you all of those toys?" 

Tiffany nodded wildly. "Yup!" 

"And what do you ask Santa for Christmas, sweetheart?" Grandma asked, turning to me, hoping to get me to join the conversation. 

I stayed silent for a moment. "IwantDaddytocomehome," I finally whispered, as tears rolled down my cheeks. 

"Daddy? Where?" Tiffany asked. 

"What?" Grandpa asked, furrowing his brow. 

"Oh, Shannon," Mom sighed. "You know Daddy didn't want to leave for Christmas, but he had to because of his job. And he'll be home soon." 

"ImissDaddy," I cried into Mom's shoulder, feeling very much like a baby instead of the grown up five year old I was supposed to be. 

* * *

"Shannon! Wake up, Shannon! It's Christmas!" Tiffany urged me the next morning at 7. 

I opened my eyes and stretched. I smiled at my sister and even got a little excited myself. "Merry Christmas, Tiffany." 

"Merry Christmas! Let's see what Santa brought!" 

The two of us ran downstairs and tore into our presents. Mom came downstairs right away, and a bleary-eyed Grandma and Grandpa wandered out of the guest bedroom too. 

Several tons of wrapping paper later, Tiffany and I each had a small mountain of gifts from Santa and our parents. The presents satisfied Tiffany's requests for Barbies aplenty, and Artist Easels and who knows what else. And, the biggest present of all was – believe it or not – a Barbie corvette, for the two of us to "share". Ha, right. 

"I guess I'll go start breakfast," Mom said, getting up from the couch with her hand on her stomach. 

"I'll help you too, dear!" Grandma volunteered, jumping up as well. 

At that moment, I heard a car sounding like it was pulling up the driveway. 

"Now, who could that be?" Grandpa wondered aloud. 

I jumped up from the floor and ran to the front door to see who was coming, but just as I got there, it flew open on its own, and a snow covered figure holding a bundle stepped inside. The figure removed his hood. 

"Daddy!" I cried. 

Tiffany, in her footie pajamas, skidded to a stop next to me. "Daddy!" 

"Merry Christmas, Shannie!" Dad greeted me, scooping me up into his arms for a big hug. "Merry Christmas, Tiffy!" 

"But Ted, how…?" Mom trailed off, looking bewildered. 

Dad smiled, looking proud of himself. "Well, those crazy partners of mine decided that nobody wants to be discussing cases on Christmas Eve, so they decided to go back home for the holidays. They'll be back here after the first of the year." 

"But I thought…" 

"Well, I have to admit that I had a little part in convincing 'em. I told them how much my beautiful girls were missing me at Christmas, and how much I was missing them." He laughed. "And what can I say – here I am!" 

"Daddy, what's in the blanket?" Tiffany asked, reaching up to see the green plaid bundle Dad still held in his arms. 

"Well, that's the other surprise." He knelt down beside us. "One of my partners in Europe asked if anyone could find a good home for one of these guys. And I said I had two little girls who would love to take care of one." He lifted up the edge of the blanket and I saw a little tiny puppy, sleeping soundly. To my amazement, the puppy looked just like I had in the play – it had the same black bands around its eyes, the same floppy brown ears, and a coat that was thick and soft as silk. 

"It's a Bernese mountain dog! And it looks just like I did for the play!" I said excitedly. 

"What's its name?" Tiffany asked, reaching up to pet its head. 

"Astrid, and it's a she," Dad replied. "Rich named her after the town she was born in." 

At Tiffany's touch, the puppy opened its eyes and almost yawned. It looked up at us, its golden brown eyes sparkling. It cautiously licked Tiffany's hand, and she giggled. "She likes me!" Tiffany exclaimed. 

"She's so pretty, Daddy. I love her," I said. "Thank you." I threw my arms around my Dad again, happy to have him home again with me. 

"She's for you, Shannon," Dad said proudly. "My Shannie, my little Bernese mountain puppy." 

* * *

"…and that was how we got Astrid," I finished. I smiled at the memory, thinking about how happy I had been that Christmas morning to see my Dad and surprised to see the puppy in his arms. 

"Aww, Shannon, that's so adorable!" Mary Anne cooed. 

"Finally! A memory that didn't start the Spier waterworks!" Abby joked. Mary Anne pretended to be insulted and tossed a pillow at her. 

"You were right that I would especially like the memory. After all, Astrid and her puppies brought the two of us together," Kristy said thoughtfully. 

"And brought Shannon to the BSC," Mallory added. 

"Speaking of joining the BSC, Mal was the next member to join, after Shannon," Claud said, remembering. "So it's only fair that she should go next." 

"Hey!" Jessi protested. "What about me?" 

"And Jessi too," Stacey said reassuringly. "But you guys can't tell your stories at the same time, so one of you has to go first." 

"I'll go," Mal volunteered.   
  


_Sailing is a player in the babysit RPG._


	7. Chapter Seven: Mallory

Chapter 7: Mallory  
_by Sandy_

I glanced around at all my friends, who were anxiously awaiting for my story. I took a deep breath and sighed. Their stories were all sentimental and memorable … how could I compare? Maybe I should make something up … 

"Come on, is our storyteller in a slump?" Abby teased. Everyone let out laugh and I smiled at her. 

"No, it's just …. I don't think I have any memorable Christmases." I admitted. 

"Oh, come on! You're trying to tell me that a Pike Christmas isn't memorable?!" Kristy exclaimed. "Or are you trying to forget them all?" The room burst out laughing and I couldn't even help myself. 

"Everyday is a holiday in our house. The only way you can tell its Christmas is because of a big tree and horrible decorations." Suddenly, I came up with the perfect story. "Okay, I have my story. It's kind of recent." I shrugged. 

Everyone was attentive and I began … "Twas' the night before Christmas in Stoneybrook. Nothing stirred, except for the Pike house …" 

* * *

"MALLY!" Claire shouted, as I was attempting to dress her. "MALLY!" She exclaimed again, trying to wriggle out of her dress. 

"Claire, it's Mall_ory_. Not Mally. Please, stay still." I was nine years old at the time, Claire was three. Although she spoke impressively for a three-year old, she still had not mastered my name. 

"I want my diaper!" She started stomping her feet. "I want my diaper, Mally!" 

I groaned. We'd been trying to potty train Claire over the past few months. She was a late learner and she never made it to the toilet on time. My mother insisted that we stop being so lenient on her and forced a rule that no one was to give Claire diapers. Of course, I was the only one who changed her and had to put up with her diaper tantrums. 

"Claire … you're a big girl now. Diapers are for babies." I coaxed her and she responded by scowling. I already went through this potty-training tantrums with Nicky and Margo, but Claire was the worst case. 

"I don't care, Mally! I want my DIAPER!" She screeched. And like Spiderman had his spidey sense, I had my tantrum sense. Seeing that I wanted a peaceful Christmas Eve, I only had one choice. 

"Okay, Claire! I'll give you a diaper only if you say my name right …" She grinned and hopped on top of her changing table. She undressed herself, even though she was unable to dress herself. 

I rummaged around for a diaper and said to her. "Repeat after me: MAL-OAR-WHEE!" She smiled and responded "MAL-OAR-WHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" After I was done, I picked up her dress, but she already jumped off and was running down the hallways, chanting "MAL-OAR-WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! MAL-OAR-WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" 

Vanessa opened the door to the room she shared with me and pouted. "Shut up, Claire! Margo and me are working on something!" Claire trembled in her spot and I rushed to her before she could start bawling. 

"Don't tell her to shut up, Vanessa!" Claire beamed and ran down the stairs, singing "MAL-OAR-WHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" the whole way. 

Vanessa rolled her eyes and I knew she was coming up with a rhyme to say towards me. She's been trying to talk in rhyme since she was five years old. "Dear, little MAL-OAR-WHEE!, you're suppose to teach Claire how to properly --" She was interrupted by my mother's screech of "PIKE MEETING NOW! IN THE REC ROOM!" 

Vanessa smirked. "I think you know what comes next. Come on, Margo!" She pushed me aside, with Margo following her. I followed them down the stairs, narrowly missing Nicky's army figures. 

When I arrived in the rec room, Mom was holding Claire. She gave me a scolding look and I shrugged. Adam, Jordan and Byron were playing Nintendo … or arguing over who should have the controller next. Nicky and Margo were already squabbling over something and Vanessa just plopped on the couch, looking bored. It was a familiar Pike scene. 

My mother cleared her voice and ordered everyone to listen to her. After much protests from the triplets, she managed to get everyone's attention. 

"Alright! Listen up! Tomorrow is Christmas …" 

"YES!!" Claire exclaimed. "SANTA!!" 

Adam put his hands to his ears. "Will she ever shut up? She's worse than Margo!" 

"SHUT UP, ADAM!" Margo shrieked. 

"Don't tell my brother to shut up!" Jordan shot back, before Adam could get a word in. 

"What are you going to do about it?" Margo sneered. 

My mother groaned and sat down on the couch, with Claire in her lap. An argument like this could go on forever, so I had to intercede. 

"Both of you be quiet and listen to Mom!" I scolded. "Don't interrupt her and you could back to doing what you want!" Everyone quieted down, shooting each other mean looks. 

Mom smiled weakly at me. "Thanks, Mal. Let's go to issue number one! I hope you all bought your Secret Santa by now!" Everyone nodded. 

Secret Santa was a Pike tradition. We each got a sibling and had to buy them a gift. It saves a lot of money, rather than each of us buys a gift for everyone. This year, it was actually a secret. I got Vanessa this year and I gave her a book on children's poetry. I have no idea who got me. 

"Good. Issue number two! After last year's ornament fiasco, I hope you all made your ornaments for the tree now. We have to decorate it today. I don't like the looks on your faces right now …" Everyone looked startled, in realization that they forgot to do their ornament. 

It was a new Pike tradition. Last year, we learned that glass ornaments do not mix well with Pike kids. We vowed only plastic from now on, but we could add our own homemade ornaments now. I also didn't do any so I put my head down. 

Mom sighed. "It's okay. You can work on that now." Everyone scrambled up and went up to their rooms, bickering with each other on the way. I slumped on the couch next to Mom, as she set Claire off running upstairs. 

"Mom … why in the world did you have seven kids?" I asked her. It was a question she probably asked herself everyday. 

"Mal, I didn't ask for triplets!" She laughed and shook her head. "You don't know how many people ask me that. They all think I'm crazy." She smiled at me and put her arm around me. "You know, can you imagine your life without your siblings? Sure, it's an extra person to feed, discipline and watch … but it's also someone else to love and have fun with." 

I grinned. It was so true. I could not imagine a single day without my siblings. 

"Besides Mallory, it's going to be all worth it in the end. Especially when you see them grow up before your very own eyes." 

And if on cue, Claire walked in, stark-naked and handed me her diaper. "Mally, I'm a big girl now!" 

* * *

Everyone exploded with laughter. I smiled at the memory and when my friends calmed down, I finally continued. 

"She didn't make it to the toilet on time." The room burst with laughter again. I managed to stifle a laugh. "It's not that funny!" 

"Poor Mal. That is so Claire!" Stacey said between giggles. 

"Guys, you better calm down! I'm not even half-way finished with my story!" I griped. 

Everyone took a big breath. "Okay, now on to the infamous Pike Christmas tree …" Unfortunately, that got Kristy, Mary Anne and Claudia laughing again. 

Abby gave a confused look and asked them, "What's so funny about the tree? I saw it last week and it looked great!" 

Mary Anne chuckled. "Because they've been improving on their tree every year since then! Trust me, Mal, if that tree you're talking about is worse than last year's…" 

I nodded. "Oh, it was pretty bad." 

* * *

I heard chaos in the rec room and headed that way. 

"STOP COPYING US, NICKY!" Jordan screamed. 

"Stop copying each other!" Nicky shot back,leaving the triplets speechless. 

I moaned and asked the Pike phrase: "What's going on here?" 

Byron spoke up. "Adam, Jordan and me have our ornaments and of course, Nicky did the exact same thing!" He held up a Ninja Turtle action figure, with a string attached to it, forming a loop. 

"Your ornaments are Ninja Turtle action figures?" I asked, bewildered. I looked into the hands of all the boys … each with a different Ninja turtle. 

"It was suppose to be a triplet thing!" Jordan moaned. Nicky was almost near tears. 

"Who cares about this little twerp, I'm hanging it up anyways!" Adam put his Ninja turtle on the tree, and of course, half of the tree slung down. The triplets followed suit. 

"Guys … it's weighing the tree down! Can't you do something with paper?" Adam crossed his arms and shook his head. He was about to say something, until all the boys burst out laughing. I turned around and saw Margo in the room. 

"Margo … what is that?" I inquired, when I saw her ornament. She wrapped up the whole Barbie in cotton, so it resembled Mummified Barbie. 

"She's covered in snow!" Margo hung it up and the tree slung down even more. 

"Ugh, get that off!" Nicky protested. "It looks like a spider web or something!" 

"No, it doesn't! I hate you boys!" Margo stormed out, as the triplets coiled up in laughter. 

"Gosh, can we act civilized to each other for one day? Just one day!" I left the room in a haste, until I felt Nicky grab my legs. "Nicky, let go!" 

"Mal … I hate them! Why do they always leave me out?" He hugged my legs protectively and I picked him up. 

"Because they're triplets, Nicky." I said. 

"What does that mean?" He sniffled a bit and rested on my shoulder. 

"They were born together, so they have a special bond." 

"What do you mean by born?" He asked and I stopped in my tracks. 

"Do you remember when Margo was born?" 

"No." "Claire?" 

"I remember when she was a baby. I was three." 

"Didn't Mommy and Daddy tell you about babies?" 

"I asked them. Mommy said one man and woman love each other …" 

"Yeah, okay! Well, it's the same thing with Adam, Byron and Jordan, except they were born at the same time. Well, not at the same time." Ugh, you try explaining this to a six-year old! 

"I still don't understand. I know they have the same birthday …" Nicky said. "But … does that mean Mommy loved three different men?" 

* * *

"Mal, you are soooooooooooo making that up!" Abby laughed. "Or was Bill Cosby just hanging around?" 

"I'm not, I swear! My reaction was the same as you guys! It's a classic Pike joke now, but don't tease Nicky about it!" I was wiping away the tears from my eyes. "That's how I always remember that Christmas." 

Jessi giggled. "It's going to so hard not to tease Nicky about it!" 

I grinned at her. "Oh, we still do! Trust me, Claire still has to ask about the triplets!" 

Mary Anne smiled. "Mallory, your story has been the most amusing. And you didn't get to Christmas yet!" 

"Oh, Christmas wasn't too great. We just ate and went to the movies. I think that's the end of my story." I said. 

"It can't be! Tell us more!" Kristy said, sitting up straight. 

"Well, I guess I'm going to have to tell about the sad part … not sad enough to start the Spier waterworks, but it was sad at the time." I replied. "Anyways, it was evening and my dad was surprisingly late …" 

* * *

I had just finished up my ornaments. I recently read Black Beauty and fell in love with it. I drew up some horses for the tree, made them look Christmasy, and I went to go put it on the tree. 

The tree looked a disaster now. Claire had decorated it with her little ponies and princesses. Margo's Mummy Barbie just …. stood out. Vanessa had written poetry on paper and sprung them all over the tree. Plus, the top was completely empty. And the tree just weighed down. 

I felt someone tug on my shirt and I turned to face Nicky. He beamed at me and held up his glasses. "Here's my ornament: my glasses! The thing that bonds me and you!" He hugged my waist and put his glasses on. He smiled and squinted his eyes. 

I laughed. "Nicky, you need your glasses all the time!" I put them on him. "You can go draw a pair." He ran upstairs and I decorated the tree. Somewhere upstairs, I could hear Margo and Vanessa singing "Silent Night". I smiled. 

Mom rushed into the room with a weary look on her face. "I just got a call from your dad. He went to Stamford to go pick up a present … but he forgot the credit card! I have to give it to him!" She was panicking. 

"Go, Mom. I'll watch everyone." I tried to reassure, but she gave me a scolding look. 

"I refuse to let my nine-year old daughter watching after six children! What kind of mother will I be! Oh, if we could only find a babysitter now! But who will be available during Christmas Eve?" My mother stormed upstairs before I could answer. 

* * *

Kristy shook her head. "I would have come." 

"I know," I murmured. 

"Um, can we just give three cheers for Kristy and the BSC?" Abby asked. We all laughed and cheered. 

"Mal, continue! You must have gotten someone to sit!" Jessi said. 

"Don't leave us hanging!" Stacey remarked. 

"I won't. It turned out alright …" I continued on. 

* * *

My mother breathed a sigh of relief. "Mrs. Murphy, the next door neighbor has agreed to watch over you all. You all behave or you will have to wait until next week for your presents!" We all collectively gasped. 

Mom had settled all of us into the rec room. She was driving down to Stamford and would be back probably in two hours. It was seven o-clock. 

"Mal, you know the rules. Claire, Margo and Nicky in bed by eight. Please, do not touch any food in the kitchen, it's for tomorrow! Santa doesn't visit naughty children on Christmas Eve, so you better be on your best behavior. I want you all in this rec room until it's bedtime or we come home!" She spoke sternly and the doorbell rang. 

"Not Mrs. Murphy! All she is going to do is sew and not even play with us!" Jordan groaned. He proceeded to turn on the Nintendo. 

I went upstairs to greet Mrs. Murphy. My mother had already left in a haste. I saw Mrs. Murphy had already sat down in the living room and started knitting on a sweater. 

"Hello Mrs. Murphy." I said cheerfully. She just acknowledged it by nodding her head. I went back downstairs. Already, the fight over the controller had started. I went up and turned off the Nintendo. 

"Okay … we have to be real good now. That means being quiet." I said, amidst the snickers from the boys. 

"Yeah, we can't even be quiet for an hour, good luck!" 

I crossed my arms. "I know what to do. I'm going to tell you a story." The triplets laughed. 

"We're too old for stories!" 

"You're never too old for stories. Just give me a chance." I sat down and motioned for everyone to gather around me. 

"Where's the book?" Vanessa asked. 

"I'm going to tell a story from my own head." 

"Really?" Nicky exclaimed. 

"Yes. It's called _The Elves Who Saved Christmas._." I smiled as I knew I had everyone's attention. "It stars six special elves. There are The Three Muska-Elves. They are always inseparable. They also happen to be very disobedient to Santa's every order!" 

"That's not fair!" Byron protested. 

"Shh! Anyways, after the Three Muska-Elves, comes Poet Elf. Her job is to respond to the millions of letters Santa gets. Santa reads them all, but he can't possibly write back to them! So, he hired Poet Elf." 

Vanessa beamed. 

"Next in line comes … Ninja Elf. His job is to make the action figures, like The Three Muska-Elves. Except his action figures always look different and he is obedient." 

Nicky grinned, despite the objections of the triplets. 

"There is also Girly-Elf! She does all the toys for girls! Her special talent is making clothes for Barbies!" 

Margo glowed. 

"And next comes … Baby Elf! She is an Elf-In-Training, so she has no serious jobs yet." 

Claire was oblivious to it. 

"Which elf are you, Mal?" Jordan asked. 

"Who said I was an elf? By the way, Santa's name is Mally Santa." The kids burst out laughing and I grinned. I proceeded on with my story. "It was the night before Christmas … and Santa was missing …." 

* * *

I paused. 

Abby looked around. "Tell us your story?" 

I grinned mischievously. "I can't. It's a Pike story. Besides I'm short on time. I spent too much talking about Claire's diaper." 

Everyone groaned. 

"We promise we won't …" Claudia looked stumped. "What's the word?" 

"Plagiarize?" Shannon suggested. 

"Yes, that's it! We won't!" Claudia smiled. 

"I know, you won't. It's just … it's not even done. I always add on more every year. You can read it when it's published." I smirked. 

Jessi laughed. "That's fine with us, Mal. Is that the end of your Christmas story?" 

I thought for awhile. "Almost. I have to get to Secret Santa…." 

* * *

While I was telling my siblings the story, my parents came home. They listened at the top of the stairs for awhile, before Vanessa noticed them. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry I missed their bedtime!" My parents smiled and said it was okay. It was only a quarter after eight anyways. Claire, Margo and Nicky headed upstairs. I was feeling incredibly tired, so I went to bed early. Vanessa was already fast asleep. 

I slept peacefully … until six o clock. Of course, Adam graciously woke everyone up with his own personal Christmas Alarm. When I woke up, I realized Vanessa wasn't in bed. I put on my robe and headed downstairs. 

"Merry Christmas, Mal!" everyone greeted. 

"Finally, we can open up our gifts!" Nicky groaned. 

"Am I really the last one to wake up?" I said groggily. 

Margo answered for me. "Yes! Who got me as Secret Santa?! I want it first." 

"I did. I just have to go upstairs and get it." Byron replied. 

I went under the tree, which was full with a multitude of gifts. I picked out my gift to Vanessa and handed it to her. 

"Here you go, Miss Poet!" Vanessa giggled and squealed when she saw it. "Thank you so much, Mal! You really are a special gal!" I smiled and she handed me a gift. 

"You're my Secret Santa too? Was this rigged?" I grinned. 

"Probably. Adam and Jordan got each other the exact same thing." She shrugged. I opened up her gift. It was a notebook, mottled in black and white. 

"Wow, Vanessa! This is great!" I beamed and hugged her. 

"Instead of using different sheets of paper to write on, I thought this was better! At least, that's what Mom said." She then went back to opening up her other gifts. I smiled at my mom. We sat down and opened up all our gifts. I was up to my neck with books. 

"Hey, where's Claire?" Nicky remarked, as he finally stopped playing with his new action figure. 

As the whole Pike family looked up, wondering where Claire had gone, we heard in the distance, a toilet flush. 

* * *

"There's my story. It was just pandemonium after that. You know, regular sitting. Endless Claire bragging." I laughed. 

"Who knew something so simple as a notebook could change your life?" Jessi said thoughtfully. 

"Yeah, who knew a toilet flush could change your life?" Abby joked. 

Jessi playfully shoved her. "I'm talking about the notebook! That was your first journal, wasn't it?" 

I grinned at my best friend, because only she would catch on to that. "Indeed it was. I wrote my first entry that night: The Elves that Saved Christmas." 

"Hey, is anyone else hungry?" Claudia suddenly asked. We all laughed, only Claudia would have been hungry. 

"Well, Jessi's turn is next, let's not forget!"   


_Sandy plays a character in the babysit rpg._


	8. Chapter Eight: Jessi

Chapter Eight: Jessi  
by Tar-Silmarien 

After Mallory's turn was over, we trooped down to the kitchen to "raid the refrigerator", as Claudia called it. She did most of the raiding, while the rest of us stood by the stairs, waiting. 

After a while, Kristy got fed up and said, "Oh, let's just go upstairs again. It's not like she needs a guide or anything." 

So we trooped up to Kristy's room again and got settled in. I was just about to suggest starting up the memories again, because I had the perfect one in my mind all ready to go, but the door opened and Claudia came in, looking disgruntled. "Hey! Didn't I tell you guys to wait?" 

"There's already food up here, you know. It's not like we were starving," commented Mallory. 

"Yes, but it's good to be prepared," Claud grinned, biting into a Mars Bar. 

There was enough food in the room to last us several more sleepovers, but I chose not to point that out. "Uh, you guys? I've got my memory." 

The others quickly quieted down and gave me their full attention as I began my story. 

* * *

It was my tenth Christmas. Piles of presents were stacked under the Christmas tree, which brushed the ceiling and was dripping with homemade decorations. The _kinara_ stood on the mantelpiece, ready to be lit. A fat snowman was sitting in the middle of the lawn, sparkling white snowflakes drifting down from the sky. 

Becca was almost hysterical with excitement, bouncing around the house, shaking presents, swiping gingerbread cookies from the jar, and singing carols at the top of her lungs. Her excitement seemed to spill over to Squirt, who was just six months old, but still waved his stuffed reindeer around happily as he lay on his blanket in front of the tree. 

I was also deliriously happy, but not for the same reason. In spite of the festive cheer that surrounded the house, I could only think of the announcement that my ballet teacher, Mrs. McLeod, had made the week before. The words still rang in my head: 

"Since you've been working so hard, ladies, I think it's time that you went on pointe." 

Screams of joy proceeded these words, as my class jumped, twirled, and leaped around the studio, hugging each other, Mrs. McLeod, and even the piano player, who looked slightly weirded out, but stayed. 

"Next week, a lady from the shoe store will come with some toe shoes you can try on, and then after the Christmas break, we'll start some simple excersises at the barre," Mrs. McLeod explained. "See you on Thursday." 

When Daddy came to pick me up, I jumped into the car and began chattering excitedly. "Guess what! We're allowed to get our first pointe shoes, Daddy! Next week! I'm going to look so beautiful, to stand on my toes, like the Sugar Plum Fairy in _The Nutcracker!_ I'll dance on a big stage, and there'll be snow falling on my hair, and a handsome prince will come and twirl me around…" I sighed dreamily, imagining the audience throwing roses at me as I curtsied again and again. 

Daddy laughed, reached over and patted my head. "You're getting to be a big girl," he said fondly. 

I was too busy deciding whether my tutu would be pink or white to notice. 

* * * 

The week crawled slowly by. Thursday seemed to be an eternity away. I danced around the house, listened to music from _Swan Lake_ and _Coppélia,_ wore my leotard and tights all the time. Nothing distracted me, except for the evening when Daddy came home from work with tickets to see the New York City Ballet dance _The Nutcracker_. I hugged him over and over again, then locked them in my piggy bank and forbade anyone to even look at them. 

I dreamed dance, I lived dance, I breathed dance, until the fateful day finally came. I insisted on having Daddy drive me to ballet half an hour before the lesson started, then chatted with the other girls – of course, about our toe shoes – until we were allowed into the studio. 

We were disappointed that Mrs. McLeod made us do our regular excersises until "the shoe lady", as we called her, arrived. 

When she did come, we jostled for position, each wanting to be fitted first. We finally drew numbers out of a hat, and I was fourth to last. 

Enviously, I watched the other girls being fitted with shoes, each triumphantly carrying the precious pink satin slippers into the changeroom. 

After what seemed like hours, my turn came. I eagerly tried on pair after pair, but Mrs. McLeod shook her head after each one and motioning me to try another one on. My heart sank lower and lower as the "already tried" pile grew larger and larger, and the untried pile smaller and smaller. 

Finally, after all the other students were gone and Mama had come into the studio to see what was holding me up, the shoe lady shook her head sadly and said, "None of these shoes here fit your foot. It's too long and thin. But not to worry. I can order them in from Europe." 

"How long will it take?" I asked, dreading the answer. 

"At the best, a month. At the worst, three." 

Mrs. McLeod caught my crestfallen look and said kindly, "I'll do whatever I can to get them in quickly." 

I nodded in resignation, then ran to the changeroom and got dressed. I managed to hold my composure as I climbed into the car, not hearing Mama's reassurances. I made it through dinner, through homework, through bathtime. It was only in my dark bedroom that I allowed myself to cry. 

Going on pointe is possibly the most exciting moment of a dancer's life. A milestone, a graduation from student to ballerina, from little kid to young adult, from junior to senior. Those pink satin shoes would be her most prized possession for weeks. 

And I wouldn't reach that milestone until three months later. While everyone was at the barre rising to the tips of their toes, I'd still be stuck on demi pointe. 

I walked in a fog for the next week, unable to dig myself out of the pit I'd put myself into. Mama and Daddy were getting worried, I knew, but still, I was depressed. 

On Christmas Eve, we dressed up and went to the River Run Center to see _The Nutcracker._ I was able to forget my woes as I was swept up by the classic Christmas story. I stood up and clapped at the end, and was delighted when I managed to get an autographed shoe from one of the dancers. 

But looking at the shoe, I still wished for one of my own. 

Standing in the lobby as I waited for the rest of the family to come out of the washrooms, I looked around, hoping to see one of the dancers, to maybe ask for another autograph. I took no notice of the woman walking past until she turned to look at me. I then recognized her as the ballerina who had danced the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy. 

"Are you lost?" she asked me. 

I shook my head mutely. Her gaze fell to the shoe clutched in my hand and said, "I see you've gotten a pointe shoe of mine. You're a dancer too, right?" 

Surprised, I looked at her. "Yes, I am. How did you know?" 

She laughed and said, "You've got beautifully long, stretched legs. The way you carry yourself also gives it away. Are you on pointe yet?" 

I lowered my eyes and sighed, "Well – sort of." 

"What do you mean?" 

I looked at her, and suddenly I was telling her all about last Thursday and how none of the shoes fit me. "I hate my feet," I muttered hopelessly. 

She looked at my feet and told me to take off my shoe. I did, and she picked up my right foot and examined it closely. She then took off her own shoe and compared her foot to mine, then straightened up and said, "Come." 

All my mother's warnings about strangers slipped from my mind as I followed the fairy down the hall to her dressing room. She opened her bag, pulled out a brand new pair of pointe shoes, and said, "Try these on." 

I pulled them on, hopefully. I was disappointed that they were just as uncomfortable as the ones I'd tried on in the studio. 

"Mmmm…yes. Well, I think these shoes should serve you well. You can keep them." She walked over to her dressing table and began to unbraid her hair. 

"But – but they're so uncomfortable!" I gasped. 

She smiled, amused, and said, "No one ever said that going on pointe is painless. I speak from experience." 

A slow warmth seemed to engulf me, starting from my head and creeping down to my toes. Warmth turned into happiness, which turned into euphoria. I rose, unsteadily to be sure, onto the tips of my toes, then yelling my thanks to the fairy, I picked up my shoes and ran into the lobby to show my parents. 

Christmas had never been better. 

* * *

"You did get your wish," said Mallory. "You danced the Sugar Plum Fairy in _The Nutcracker_ this Christmas." 

I smiled and replied, "Yeah, I know. It was like a dream come true. I wish I knew the name of the dancer who gave me my first pointe shoes, but I'll always remember that might." Despite how corny it may have sounded, it was true.   
  
_Tar-Silmarien was our first reviewer and has graciously stepped in to write Jessi's chapter._


	9. Chapter Nine: Abby

Chapter Nine: Abby   
by chicken queen   


I closed my eyes, thinking of the perfect holiday story to tell. It had to be one with my Dad, of course. When I opened my eyes, everyone was looking at me. I smiled, and held a hairbrush up to my mouth. 

"Next up we have... Aaaaaabigaiiiiiil Steeeevensoooooon!!" I smiled a big, toothy grin at my friends. They giggled. Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night. 

"So, Abby, what's your favorite holiday memory?" Jessi asked, looking at me. I sighed, and glanced at all my friends faces. 

"Well... it was the last Hanukkah that my Dad was still alive. Anna and I were eight, and still happily living in Long Island.." 

* * *

"Dad, look! It's snowing!" I shrieked, running to the front window and watching the fat flakes swirl in the air. My father, Jonathan Stevenson, came and stood behind me, almost as excited as I was. I looked up at him. "Can we make a snowman after dinner?" I asked hopefully. He laughed. 

"Abbers, there's not enough snow to make a snowman yet. You have to wait," he replied. 

"I hate waiting," I pouted. My Mom, Rachel, poked her head into the living room. 

"Well, you don't have to wait any longer to eat. Dinner's ready!" she said, smiling at my Dad. I cheered and ran into the kitchen, sitting at the big table across from my sister. 

"Anna, it's snowing!" I said excitedly to my twin sister, bouncing in my seat, making my Dad laugh. Everything made my Dad laugh. 

"Abby, calm down!" He said, passing me the potatoes, "It wasn't even sticking to the ground." My mother nodded, helping herself to some beans. 

"We'll be lucky if we get an inch," she added, smiling sympathetically at me. "Sorry, hun." 

"That's okay, I get to play for my music class tomorrow. I'd hate for it to be a snow day," Anna said quietly, shrugging at my exasperated look. 

"An-na! Snow days are fun! You've got to be the only kid on the planet who doesn't think so! There's two days left of school, don't you want an early holiday?" 

"But I get to play 'Silent Night' for the class. And if there's a snow day, I might not get a chance," she paused, thoughtfully, "and I do too like snow days." 

"Do not." 

"Do too." 

"Do not." 

"Do too." 

"Do too." 

"Do no- hey! Abby!" she giggled and stuck out her tongue at me. I smiled and we started eating in peace. 

From outside, we could hear voices, singing on the street. My Dad smiled. 

"Carolers," he said, matter-of-factly, "let's go see." We all got up from the table and opened the front door, watching the small group singing from our doorstep. The women held candles while the men held songbooks. I took my Dad's hand, and he squeezed it. They sounded really good. 

They finished the song, and wished us a Merry Christmas as we headed back inside. I looked at my Dad curiously. 

"Dad, how come they have Christmas carols and no Hanukkah carols?" I asked. 

"There are Hanukkah songs, we sing them with our family," he replied, sitting down on the couch. I climbed up beside him. 

"Then how come we don't go around singing like they did? They wished us a Merry Christmas, and we don't even celebrate Christmas. Could we have wished them a Happy Hanukkah?" 

My Dad frowned, lost in thought. I watched him in silence. Suddenly he stood up, and took our menorah off the table. "If it's Hanukkah caroling Abby wants, then it's Hanukkah caroling Abby gets!" He smiled, and handed me the menorah. He went into the kitchen, ushering my Mom and Anna to join us, explaining our plan. 

"But Jon, there's no Hanukah caroling," Mom said. 

"Can you sing 'Sivivon, sov, sov, sov'? How about 'I Have a Little Dreidel'?" He grinned, as we put on our coats and boots, then handed us dreidels. "Shall we?" he asked, opening the door. We went outside, following my Dad to the next-door neighbours'. He boldly knocked on their door. 

"Why the Stevensons!" Mr. Byrne exclaimed when he opened the door. "What brings you here?" My Dad nodded, our cue, and we started singing 'I Have a Little Dreidel' to Mr. and Mrs. Byrne's delight. 

After we had finished, they invited us in for cookies and milk, and we told them all about what we were doing for the holidays. Mrs. Byrne wanted to hear Anna's violin, so she ran home to get it. Mr. Byrne asked me how my off-season soccer training was going. Then we headed back out, to continue singing down the street. 

"Happy Hanukkah!" the Byrnes exclaimed as we left. 

"Merry Christmas!" I replied, waving. 

An hour or two later, we were back at home, sipping hot chocolate in front of a fire. 

"That was fun, Jon," my mother said, smiling happily at him. I crawled into his lap and hugged him. 

"Yeah Dad, thanks," I said. Anna looked up at us from the floor, and my Mom opened her arms. Anna scrambled up into her lap and we all started laughing. 

"So, is this good enough to be a yearly Stevenson tradition?" Dad asked, grinning. He loved traditions. Anna nodded enthusiastically. "Okay then," he smiled, and we all snuggled in, watching the fire. 

* * *

I looked up awkwardly, knowing that my eyes had filled with tears. Biting my bottom lip, I dared to glance at Mary Anne, who was crying softly to herself. I moved over beside her, putting my arms avcross her shoulders silently. Kristy nodded. 

"Your Dad sounds like he was a great man," she said. 

"The best," I agreed, swiping at my eyes. She came over beside me, wrapping me in a tight hug. Claud followed suit. Then Mal and Jessi. Soon, we were one big, silent BSC hug. It was too much. 

"And in case you were wondering, I did get my snow day the next day." I said quietly, causing my friends to roar with laughter.   
  


Fin.   
  
_chicken queen plays two characters and is one of the moderators of the babysit RPG._


	10. Epilogue

The Epilogue: A Poem by Mallory Pike  
_(by YellowRoseOfTexas)_

'Twas the week before Christmas, when all through Kristy's house  
Not a creature was stirring, not even Karen's pet mouse;  
Christmas memories were told by the girls with great care,  
In hopes that each sitter would have something to share;  


The babysitters were nestled all snug in their beds,  
While visions of yesteryear danced in their heads;  
And Claud in her 'kerchief and Kristy in her cap,  
And Mary Anne Spier, with a notebook in her lap.  


When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter.  
Twas Alan Gray making mischief with toilet paper and a ladder.  
Away to the window, they all flew like a flash,  
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash!  


The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow   
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the miscreant below,  
When what to their wondering eyes should appear  
But Logan Bruno, Trevor Sandbourne, and Shannon's friend Greer.  


With Alan's dad as the driver, so lively and quick,  
Abby knew in a moment it must be a trick!  
More rapid than eagles bringing TP they came,  
And they whispered, and giggled, and rolled without shame;  


"Now, the TREES! now, the ROOF!" cried Alan with glee.  
On WINDOWS! on BUSHES! on CARS! NOT ON ME!"  
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!  
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"  


As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane leap,  
When they meet with an obstacle, head down the street,  
Piled into the car and away then they flew,  
With a car full of boys, and Shannon's friend, too.  


Alan rolled down the window, to the sitters gave a whistle,  
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.  
But they heard him exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,  
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"   


**The End**

Editor's Note: Thank you to everyone who made this project possible! My apologies that it is just now coming to an end. Readers, if you haven't aleady done so, check out the BSC RPG on livejournal. Community name: babysit. 


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